“There must be some way to get a break from it.” How could a person function with this going on in his head all the time?

“There is. It’s sex.”

“Sex? You’re kidding me.”

He shook his head, but said nothing.

Then it sunk in. “How often?”

“Daily.”

Every day? He had sex every day? Nina stared at him, mouth gaping open, unable to say anything. She’d had sex with a man who was sleeping with other women on a daily basis—hundreds, thousands maybe.

“You wanted to know.” He gave her an apologetic look. “It’s not by choice. And it means nothing.”

It meant nothing to him?

Nina felt an uncomfortable twinge in her left side. He’d slept with her to alleviate his pain? That was it? He’d used her. And she’d been so stupid to let herself feel something. He wasn’t any better than any other man, if anything, he was worse, because he had lulled her into believing that he was on her side, that he wanted to help. What was she to him? A painkiller?

“You’re telling me that after you had sex with me? That it meant nothing to you? That’s just what a girl wants to hear. Thanks a lot!” With a loud thud she slammed the fork on the counter and pushed away her nearly empty plate. She had to get out of his presence before she broke down in front of him, before she would shed tears of disappointment.

She dropped from the barstool, but before she could stomp out of the kitchen, he’d already grabbed her arm and flung her around to face him.

“It meant nothing with any of those women. It means something with you.”

“Save your lies for somebody who’s a little more gullible than I am.” She wrenched her arm free and walked into the living room when she suddenly heard a loud noise. She turned and saw the steel blinds come down over the large floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Lockdown,” he explained behind her. “Sunrise is in thirty seconds. I’ve programmed them to close before sunrise. They’ll lift again after sunset.”

“Well, I don’t care, ‘cause I’m not staying. You can play your little games with somebody else.” The best way to shield herself from the pain she felt was to attack. She couldn’t let him see how hurt she was.

She made for the door and was surprised that he didn’t hold her back. Well, it just proved that their intimacy had meant nothing to him.

She jerked at the door, but it wouldn’t open. Her hands went to her hips as she spun back to face him. “Open the damn door.”

“I can’t.”

***

Amaury smirked as he watched Nina try to open the door. It was programmed to lock at the same time the blinds came down. A security measure he’d put in place so nobody could invade the place while he slept. Of course, he could override the system in an emergency. But he had no intention of doing so—this wasn’t an emergency, at least not for him. Nina was staying, whether she wanted to or not.

He should have never revealed to her what his gift did to him and how he was able to relieve the pain. Now he had a mutiny on his hands. The little wildcat didn’t like the fact that she was one of many women he’d slept with to soothe his pain. He’d have to somehow convince her of the truth—that she was different, that being with her affected him. He craved her company, not because he wanted sex, but because he wanted her. It was high time to admit it to himself.

“It won’t open, however long you try, until sundown. Nina, please, we need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you. Open the damn door!”

“No, I won’t. You belong here with me.”

“What for? Did you run out of aspirin?” she barked.

Amaury shook his head. “When I’m with you, I’m not in pain, whether we have sex or not. I don’t know why. I just know that I want to be with you.”

He stretched out his hand, but she crossed hers over her chest.

“But I don’t want to be with you. I’m not interested in being with some sexoholic who can’t keep his hands off other women. And I don’t need someone who’s using me. Been there, done that.”

He crossed the distance to her and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “I’m not using you, chérie. I’m with you because I want to be with you. If that wasn’t the case, I would have wiped your memory a long time ago and you wouldn’t even know who I was.”

Amaury wasn’t entirely sure whether he was telling the truth about the memory part—since she’d been unreceptive to his mind control, he suspected that trying to wipe her memory wouldn’t have worked. Not that it mattered, because he had no intention of wiping her memory—ever.